


Conversation

by morgan_cian



Series: Story Snippets [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:57:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan_cian/pseuds/morgan_cian





	Conversation

The light suddenly being switched on made me blink.

“Why are you sitting in here in the dark?” You ask.

I blink several times and then stare over your shoulder. How do I put into words the feelings that I have when words are just inadequate.

How do I say that my stomach has been churning? How do I say that I toss and turn at night with no clear reason? How do I say the world just seems dim and uncomfortable?

How do I say that I feel out of step and guarded?

You sit down beside me and pull my feet into you lap. “Talk to me.”

I sigh.

“It’s nothing big.” I shrug. You know the ploy well, so you wait. I fidget and you wait some more.

“I don’t feel like I’m a part of my own life?” I huff out a quiet laugh. “Fucked up, huh?”

“Why do you feel like that?”

“Trying to psychoanalyze me again?” You just stare at me. “Fine,” I pull my feet away and give myself distance.

All defensive mechanisms, I know that. You know that. I stand and pace just outside the halo of the lamp glow. The darkness feels more comfortable. Shadows seem to be much friendlier.

“I suck at being a friend.” I shrug my shoulders, my skin feels too tight. “Or rather, I can’t keep up.”

I step up to the window and stare at the moon so far removed. I used to wish that I lived on the moon. Technical stuff aside, like dying, sometimes the child in me still wishes reverently.

“I got so used to people being transient, I feel the same. A wraith that hovers near the cheer and light, it is so warm and memorizing.”

“Like a moth to a flame?” You mutter the words but I nod in agreement.

“Exactly,” I say firmly. “I find myself whining and complaining about the people that leave. I expect them to leave. It still hurts when they leave.”

You clear your throat and I hunch forward, pressing my nose against the cool glass.

“I know, I know. I have no control over the actions of others, only my own.” My breath fogs the glass. I swirl a finger in the condensation. “In the end, it’s my actions that suck.”

I can hear the heavy “why do you think that?’ that hangs between us, you don’t even have to say it anymore.

“I think friends are the ones that are there. More like the sun,” I smile a little. “It is so easy to get burned but you need the sun to survive.” I turn away from the glass. “I do give up parts of myself, I choose to.”

You nod the encouragement loud and clear. 

“But what about the ones who have this expectation, that if you do not do scenario A, then you aren’t a friend.”

“Do I really need to say it?” You ask quietly, “It comes back to the same lesson.”

I open my mouth and gape like a fish. “Does it always come back to that?”

You nod.

I roll my eyes like an exasperated teen. I wanted clear cut and dried answers. I wanted to be able to fix it. I wanted perfection.

I shake my head at myself. Perfection would be boring besides being completely unattainable. And I find myself right back at the beginning.

One: I am only in control of my own actions.

Two: Quit being so fucking hard on myself.

I look up. Your lips have turned upwards.

“Why do you even put up with me?”

It is your turn to chuckle, “Because I happen to like you, warts and all.”

“But what about…” I trail off, frantically trying to think of the lessons learned to apply to my next question. Fuck it, you were the one that told me emotions exist for the sake of emotions. Confusion was one of them.

“What about the so called friend that has mutual friends? That gets sticky.”

You steeple your fingers, “You’ve been hurt.”

I nod. I make my way across the room and sit at your feet. The halo of lamplight encompasses me as well.

“The ones that are influenced should not even be called friends to begin with, more like acquaintances. You learn from them, allow them to enrich your life, but do not dwell on them. If a true bond is made then it will be reciprocal.”

I lay my head against your knee. The sense of disquiet makes my chest feel heavy. “If it is to be reciprocal, then I really do suck as a friend.”

Your hand goes into my hair, a comforting weight against my skull. “You aren’t listening. Acquaintances have potential. The potential of becoming more, a bond, a friendship where layers are peeled back and the sharing is mutual. There is also the potential of being nothing more than just an acquaintance, small islands of experience that shape the path of life.”

You lift my chin. “Let go, remember it is only the now. You cannot change what has happened only learn from it. You cannot predict what is going to happen tomorrow, so do not dwell on it. People will constantly flow in and out of your life. That is a given. Cherish the friendships, acknowledge the acquaintances, and move forward. Disquiet comes from looking back and trying to change the one thing that is now in the past.”

The pressure eases some. Your hand has tracked slowly along my skull, over and over. My eyes feel heavy. You squeeze my nape.

“Think you can sleep now?”

I blink up at you. “I think I can.”

We walk to the bedroom; your arm holds me close.

“What were you worried about?”

I stop. I can’t remember. I blink at you.

“That’s what I thought,” you smile, “let’s get some rest.”


End file.
